


A Failure to Communicate

by merentha13



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:35:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4536444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merentha13/pseuds/merentha13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a badly timed breakdown in communication</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Failure to Communicate

Sweat slid irritatingly from the hands tightly clenched around Doyle’s own slick wrists and ran down his arms, burning the cuts and scrapes adorning his skin. His cramped grip on his partner’s arms added to his discomfort. The downward pull of his weight made his shoulders ache. Doyle relaxed his hold on Bodie’s forearm slightly and felt the grasp around his wrists tighten painfully.

“Don’t you let go, you bastard.” Bodie snarled down at him. “Don’t you dare let go!”

“Can’t hold on much longer, Bodie.” As Doyle spoke they both felt Bodie slide a little further down the slight slope of the roof.

With their fate balanced precariously on the edge of a derelict office block blue eyes looked down and met green; anger and defiance met sorrow and acceptance. 

This time they weren't on the same page.

This time the words needed to be said out loud.

“Don’t you go getting any bleeding half-baked ideas about sacrificing your sorry arse for me, Doyle.” Bodie’s voice was low and rough. “If the fall doesn’t kill you, I fucking-well will.”

“Charming. You’ve a real way with words, mate.”

Doyle’s feet searched for purchase against the brick wall of the building, but the overhang kept him too far away. The slight sway of his scrabbling pulled Bodie another few inches closer to disaster. 

“Doyle! Will you hold still,” Bodie ordered with little hope of compliance.

Shoulders stretched beyond endurance, feeling Bodie slide perilously closer to the roof’s edge, Doyle shouted, “Let go!” 

Startled, Bodie involuntarily let his grip relax slightly and Doyle twisted himself free of Bodie’s hold. 

Doyle fell to the sound of Bodie’s shattered “No!”

Bodie lowered his forehead to the rough surface of the roof. A heaviness settled in his chest, replacing the weight that had wrenched his shoulders. He wondered absently if he’d hear the body hit the ground. The body... Ray’s body... Ray...

Footfalls pounding across the rooftop had Bodie swiftly rolling onto his back and reaching for his gun.

A pair of dusty black trainers skidded to a halt a few paces away from him. “Whoa, mate – it’s me - Murphy – easy old, son.” Murphy hauled him to his feet and led him over to the edge of the roof. “He’s all right, Bodie. Emergency services were there and ready to break his fall.” 

Bodie peered over the precipice and saw Doyle sitting on the bonnet of a car, his arm being carefully secured to his chest by an ambulance attendant.

“Bloody-minded bastard,” Bodie cursed and ran down the fire escape to the street, Murphy close on his heels. Storming up to where Doyle sat he was greeted by a wide cheeky grin. 

Noting the thunderous look on his partner’s face, the smile slowly died and Doyle whispered, “I’m sorry, Bodie. Couldn’t hold on -”

Bodie’s fists clenched and he hit Doyle on his undamaged cheek. Murphy and a nearby copper restrained him from inflicting more damage. 

“What the hell?” the officer asked puzzled. “I thought they were partners?”

“Ah - a bit of miscommunication it seems,” Murphy shrugged knowingly.

The ambulance attendants helped Doyle up and resettled his temporary bandages. 

Bodie tried to shake himself free. Seeing the bruise rising on Doyle’s cheek and the blood dripping from his nose, he stepped towards Doyle. Murphy tightened his grip. Doyle’s nod to let Bodie go earned him a raised eyebrow from Murphy but Doyle waved him off. Freed, Bodie stalked over to Doyle and grabbed the front of his shirt – lifting him up onto his toes. He leaned in close and fiercely whispered “Don’t you _ever_ do that to me again.” He pushed away from Doyle and looked at him closely. Seeing the tension and the guilt in the large green eyes he sighed, releasing his own anger and said, “You look terrible.” He pulled a handkerchief from his own pocket and gently wiped at the blood on Doyle’s face. “Never have a hanky when you need one, do you sunshine? Good thing I’m a round. Need a keeper, you do.” 

Eyes burning, ignoring those around them, Doyle leaned into Bodie and wrapped his arms around him. Bodie stiffened for a moment and then pulled Doyle’s head down onto his shoulder. He could feel him trembling. “All right, mate? I think these gentlemen are waiting for you.” He looked over at the ambulance attendants. Doyle wiped his face on Bodie’s shoulder and moved back.

“You coming with me?”

“Of course I am,” Bodie replied indignantly. “You think I’d just leave you hanging-”

The sharp elbow to his ribs doubled him over and he found he had to hurry to make it into the ambulance before it pulled away.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tea and Swiss Roll Weekly Obbo 285 Prompt: miscommunication  
> [slightly edited from version posted there]


End file.
